


It's their song.

by j_obsessed



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Beautiful, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Falling In Love, I Wrote This While Listening To James Arthur's Music, M/M, Slow Dancing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, soft and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28129275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: “Hey Jos?”“Yeah?”“Stop second guessing yourself. Just take my hand.”“Okay.”
Relationships: Jos Buttler/Joe Root
Comments: 18
Kudos: 16





	It's their song.

**Author's Note:**

> Today has been fucking terrible  
> I have cramps and am hyperemotional and want to cry every five seconds.  
> I hope this makes sense and I hope you might enjoy it.  
> Oh.  
> And I love you all <3

Love at first sight is a funny thing.

Joe doesn’t know if that’s what this was, or if maybe, he’s just been falling for Jos ever since then. Because, normally, if someone was standing at his doorstep soaking, he’d think at least twice about making them remove their shoes, and coat, and getting a mat for the floor, before even considering letting them in.

He concedes that he’s just a bit slow tonight- as he pulls Jos into a tight hug, right in the doorway.

The keeper stands shock-stunned for a moment, before dropping his bags, and very cautiously places his arms around his younger friend’s waist. There are tracks of water running down from his hair, over his temple and falling onto Joe’s shirt, but the batsman is unmoved.

Jos wonders, if this is what he’d come home to in another universe. Maybe. He could see it, them, like this. All the time. He could see it way back when they met. Love at first sight, maybe, or maybe not- more like a love that’s crept up on him, slowly, steadily, without him really realising it.

He quickly pulls himself out of his head.

“Joey, I’m tracking water onto your tiles.”

The younger scoffs into Jos’ shoulder. “Shh. Doesn’t matter. Just come in.”

Raising an eyebrow (and subsequently copping a light thwack to his shoulder), the keeper toes his shoes and socks off outside the door, before stepping inside very lightly.

“Why-?”

“I’m not letting you break out a mop at eleven. I know what you’re like about your floors…”

Joe shoves him into the bathroom with a playful eyeroll. “There’s a spare set of your clothes there already. The ones you left last time.”

“Are you going to bed?”

Joe gives him a soft smile over his shoulder and shakes his head.

“See you soon then,” he breathes out. Jos takes a moment, to commit that expression on Joe’s face to memory, before closing the door. Because... how _beautiful_. Pretty faces don’t normally cause Jos to lose his breath. But when Joe smiles like that, Jos would bet his Range Rover _and_ his BMW that he’d be breathing a little harder every time.

Coming to Joe’s place when they’re playing matches at Headingley is just, so much nicer than staying at some hotel, with unfamiliar setups and foreign stale scents. It’s the little things that make it _so much better._

Like how his toothbrush is already sitting there, with a little cap, in a jar beside Joe’s.

The particular toothpaste brand that he needs for his sensitive teeth, always sitting there in the basket on the bathroom sink.

And how the batsman always has fresh towels that smell of that specific fabric softener. Always two, because you can’t dry your hair and your body with the same towel, but not everyone understands that.

How there’s always a pair of clothes there for him, so he doesn’t have to open up his bags.

Medium roast coffee, that Joe only has for him, because Joe is strictly YTO (Yorkshire Tea Only).

Old bats that used to belong to Jos, that he uses to shadow bat when he can’t sleep (which isn’t very often, because Joe’s bed is comfortable, more so than his own).

It’s all the little bits of Jos’ everyday life that fit so seamlessly in someone else’s, that makes him second guess why they’re _separate._

He gives up on his thoughts, slipping under warm water, and under the familiar scent of strawberry soap.

-

When he walks into the living room, face half-covered by the towel he’s wrestling with, trying to dry his hair, he’s only alerted to Joe’s presence by a very soft chuckle- that is probably at his expense.

Joe places something down- it sounds like a glass, or a mug- and comes to stand in front of the keeper. Jos knows this because he can see Joe’s sock-clad feet in front of his. The younger carefully tugs the towel away and pushes Jos to sit at one of the barstools, which has a steaming cup of tea in close vicinity, along with a few unfinished half sketches and pencils.

The radio is playing quietly in the background, idle chatter that he’s not really paying attention to, as he grins at his best friend in an unspoken ‘thank you’. He takes a sip, pressing the mug to his cheek and humming softly at the heat against his skin. It’s so easy to sit back and just _be there._ To seamlessly pick up where Joe had left off, sketching fine lines over the paper as though they were having the same thoughts.

At some point, Joe’s come to stand behind him, and Jos can feel the warmth against his back. He’s tempted to tip his head back onto his best friend’s shoulder but reconsiders when he feels a few drops of water trickle down over his neck. 

Before he can even move to brush them away, Joe’s drying his hair gently, soft, smooth movements that would put him to sleep if he wasn’t so focused on sketching the other half of this rose.

“So how was the drive here?”

Jos isn’t even the slightest bit concerned at the broken silence. In fact, talking to Joe might just be one of his favourite things on the planet. “Hmm, quiet. Felt like the usual drive home, actually. Oh, this reminds me, I had picked something up for you-”

“I specifically told you that we would go to Tesco tomorrow morning-”

Jos cuts him off with a roll of his eyes and gestures to his multiple bags at the door, where there is a clear cellophane wrapping on top. "For you." 

“Oh. Okay, this can definitely be excused. Thank you,” Joe grins, as he gently unwraps them, and sets about cutting the stems to fit them into a vase. After a few moments, he adds, “could do with a little red though.”

Jos looks at him in surprise. “Character development, eh, who would’ve thought.”

The batsman’s jaw drops open, as he flicks water at Jos, who shrieks and dodges him, running away to the couch. Joe joins him a few moments later, with both their mugs, continuing their easy conversation.

Again, Jos wonders if this is what it is to be in love. Or at least, what it is supposed to be like. The words drift off, as some chords of a new song float into the room. Registering some movement, he pulls himself back into the conscious, blinking in confusion as he sees Joe’s offered hand. He thinks he should respond, twice or thrice, but can’t exactly come up with anything. As usual, Joe seems to be in his head.

“Jos?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop second-guessing yourself. Just take my hand.”

And since when has Jos been known to refuse Joe of anything.

“Okay,” he says, smiling up at Joe, through beautiful blonde eyelashes, and the younger wonders, how the fuck he ever got so lucky.

When their hands make contact, it’s like finding _home._ Joe can’t explain it, because this small, tiny little bit of intimacy normally wouldn’t mean anything. Heartless? No. Just practical. Brushing fingers, clasping palms, offering a hand, would never normally feel like this.

But this _isn’t_ normal, is it? Because this is Jos, and this is him, and this is them and whatever this is, makes him _crave_ it even more. To have this all the time.

Joe’s never quite had the _desire_ to try recreational drugs, but he wonders if Jos counts as one. He has to, surely, because how else can someone be so addictive, so hooking, so captivating. 

Joe’s also never believed in soulmates, but now he wonders if Jos might be his. The keeper’s hands settle comfortably against him, one holding over his waist, and one clasping his own. The dim lights from the kitchen do just enough, to add even more sparkle to Jos’ already bright eyes. Coupled with the rain that’s falling outside, silver streaks visible through the glass windows, it’s a picture straight out of heaven.

“You didn’t meet me in the dark you know…”

Joe rolls his eyes again, and Jos has to laugh, because of just how perfect this all is. How everything just works. How he knew that was the reaction he was going to get, and how Joe smiled at his horrendous joke anyway. But most of all, Jos marvels at how _easy_ it really is. And if everything is this easy, then…

“But… when you smiled over your shoulder…” he sings with the lyrics, and this time, Joe chuckles, bracing both hands on his shoulders with another one of those _breathtaking_ expressions. “I knew I loved you then.”

“Took you long enough.” Jos knows he’s got some sort of extremely amusing look on his face because Joe is seconds from bursting out laughing again. “You brought me tea, with a kiss on my head.”

“You remember that!?”

Joe gives him a sheepish smile, and Jos grins, extending his arm so the love of his life can twirl under it, before bringing him in close again. “May-be…”

“Unbelievable.”

“So?”

“So _what?”_

“You’re such a pain,” Jos shakes his head, dropping it softly onto the younger’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’ve been waiting long enough.” The keeper sighs audibly, very exaggeratedly, and Joe pokes his cheek in retaliation. “So… _what?”_

“Would you let me dance with you, to this? At our wedding?”

“Haven’t you missed a step?” Jos can practically hear the teasing lilt in the younger’s voice. God, he’s such a pain. Such an adorable, loving, beautiful, gorgeous, stunning _pain._

“What, do you want me to take you to prom darling,” he suggests.

When Joe laughs, Jos genuinely wonders if you ever _really_ fall in love, or if you just, keep occasionally slipping, all the time, until you’re consumed by just how much you adore someone.

“No, but you could start with a kiss.”

“Finally, something that makes sense.” He taps Joe’s bottom lip softly, relishing in the predictable little roll of eyes, and the beautiful sound of Joe being unable to stop himself from laughing, before bringing them closer together, finally closing the gap just as the song finishes.

_Oh, just say you won’t let go._

**Author's Note:**

> Realising post editing this was REALLY heavy on the fluff   
> I wonder if that's disclaimer worthy...   
> It's gross, they're really cute and lovey, and everything is just beautiful and wonderful ok? ok.


End file.
